Christmas Memories
by notenoughpotter
Summary: One-shot, somewhat S3 canon, The Christmas season has descended on Mystic Falls, but Elena's having difficulty with the emotional toll losing so many friends and family members has brought.


Author's note: Some of y'all may have already read this on another site. This was written by request from a lovely friend who made me a festive Christmas signature.

Since I don't think all my readers are members of the other site, I wanted to share this as a small gift in the spirit of the holiday.

Enjoy!

Rating: T - mild language

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><p>Damon jogged up the steps to the Gilbert house with Elena's leather jacket in his hand. He wasn't sure how she managed to forget it last night, but it gave him a good reason to drop by unexpectedly. Something had seemed just a little off about Elena when she, Jeremy, and Alaric had been at the boardinghouse for dinner the night before. Since none of the three residents of the Gilbert house had ever really learned to cook, Saturday night dinner at the boardinghouse had become something of a tradition - and a matter of survival.<p>

Damon certainly didn't mind. Since Stefan had left with Katherine after disposing of Klaus, his family home felt a little too big.

As he got closer to the door, he laughed under his breath. The _Glee _holiday songs blared from a speaker somewhere inside the house. Elena had loved last week's episode. She'd watched it at least three times, and that was just when he'd been at the Gilbert house. He started to knock on the door, but that's when he heard something else.

_Elena was crying._

He took a deep breath and wished he'd brought a bottle of bourbon with him. Alaric had gotten too good at hiding his stock from Jeremy. Give him a life or death situation, and Damon would face it head-on...Elena in tears...that was another story.

He knocked once and counted to three before twisting the doorknob in his hand. Someone in the Gilbert family really needed to learn to lock the front door. "Elena?" He studied the room and tried to decide if someone had broken in or if he'd caught Elena mid-decorating. "Elena?" Damon walked deeper into the house and the sniffling sound grew louder. Rounding the corner, he found her sitting cross-legged amid a pile of Christmas decorations - a tablecloth was draped across her lap. "You forgot your jacket." He waved it in the air in front of her. "Thought you'd need it when you were picking out the Christmas tree."

Elena blinked up at him in surprise as she got to her feet. Hastily wiping her cheeks, she tried to pretend nothing was wrong. "I told them to go without me." Her breath came unsteadily as she tried to gain control over her tears. "It's always been more of a father-son thing for my dad with Jeremy. I thought Jer would like going with just Ric." She stepped over a still-sealed box and began to walk toward the living room with the tablecloth still in hand. "I wanted to get some of the other decorating done while they were gone. I found Harold." She pointed to a tiny red-clad figure sitting on the mantle. "He always starts his adventures around the house in that spot." She laughed through a new round of tears. "You can even see the scorch marks from when Jeremy dropped him into the fire when when he was five. Mom almost died on the spot. He was her elf from when she was little." Elena reached over and pulled a tissue from the box on the side table as Damon walked to examine the little Christmas elf. A blackened area in the middle of the fir trim on his jacket gave evidence of Harold's near-death experience.

"How did he survive?" Damon raised an eyebrow in a desperate attempt at levity.

"My mom was drinking coffee. She ran over, grabbed the elf, and dropped him in her cup. That's why his fur is kind of brown..." Elena's lower lip trembled as she bit down on it. She ran her fingertips over the tablecloth as she draped it over the back of the couch. "I just wanted to give Jeremy a normal Christmas. Last year, Jenna decided it would just be easier to pretend Christmas didn't exist, but that's really not fair. He's still just a kid. I just thought he needed one more Christmas, but I can't do it, Damon. I can't pretend it's all okay. I pulled out our Christmas tablecloth - every year Mom would make us put red and green handprints to show who all celebrated with us...and I looked at it...and everybody's gone, Damon. The only two people on here who are still alive are me and Jeremy." She finally broke into sobs as her eyes filled with tears that would make a 1940s movie star jealous.

Damon couldn't just stand there any longer. He carefully placed the little plastic elf back in its seat on the mantle before he sped to her side and wrapped her in his arms. Her cries became harder as months of pent-up emotion finally spilled out as he held her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. Unsure of what to say, he stayed silent as he waited for her to cry herself out. Only when the flood of tears began to slow did he begin to stroke her hair. "I understand." He carefully lowered both of them to the floor and they leaned with their backs against the couch as he took hold of the source of the tears. Unfolding the tablecloth, he saw a tiny green handprint with a red adult's hand on either side. In neat black script, the three were labeled _Elena's First Christmas._ A few inches farther along the homemade border, a red baby's handprint was smeared alongside another tiny green hand - these two were joined by five adult hands.

"Mom's parents and Jenna were here that year." Elena pointed at the seven clustered handprints. Slowly, she began to tell Damon about all the different Christmases represented on the cloth - stopping at the last one with only one teenager's hand represented. "Jeremy said he was too old to paint his hand that year." She clenched her teeth tightly and squeezed her eyes shut. "He didn't know that would be his last chance."

"We never do." Damon slid his hand down her arm and pulled her closer in to his chest. "Funny the things you remember...especially when you've been around as long as I have." He leaned his head down and looked into Elena's eyes. "When I was four years old, my mother was sick - but I didn't know it. She needed help decorating our tree...she always did that herself, even though there were plenty of other people to do it for her. Even just hanging the glass balls on the branches made her tired. Halfway through, she went to sit in her favorite chair, and she pulled me onto her lap. I was holding a little porcelain angel, and we just sat there and looked out the window watching my father working with one of his horses. After a little while, she stood up and held me up to put the angel on top of the tree." Damon paused his story handed Elena a second tissue from the box. "By the next year, she was gone. I had a new mother. I was helping her decorate the tree, and I came across the little angel. I remembered my mother rocking me in her lap, and I got so angry that I threw it across the room. Stefan's mother slowly picked it up, walked over to me, and knelt in front of me. She showed me the little angel was alright - it just had a tiny crack in the top of one of its wings. Then she knelt in front of me and took hold of my shoulders. She knew I missed my mother...and nothing would be the same as before. She put the little angel back in my hand and told me that as long as we remember the ones we've lost - they're still celebrating with us in a way." He trailed a fingertip across Elena's forehead and smoothed her hair. Gripping the tablecloth, his icy blue eyes were even more intense than normal. "These people may be gone, but your memories keep them with you. We'll get through this Christmas. Next year it'll be easier...and the year after that...and the year after that. Eventually, it won't hurt as much when you think about them. Trust me." He leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. "And we _will _get through this Christmas." A door slammed in the driveway. "Your tree's here."

"Thanks, Damon." Elena forced a smile.

"It'll get easier." He lifted her back to her feet and wiped the last tear away with the pad of his thumb.

The front door opened, and Alaric began backing into the room. "Who's ready to decorate a tree?"

Damon took one look at the massive tree and he shook his head. "I think we need to call in Caroline for this."

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><p>Elena yawned as she stepped out of the bathroom toweling her hair dry. After spending an entire day decorating first her house and then descending unexpectedly on the boardinghouse, she was exhausted...but it was a good tired.<p>

_Holly Jolly Christmas _blared from downstairs as Jeremy insisted on watching _Frosty the Snowman_ just like he did every year. Bonnie's laughter rang out as Jeremy said the lines along with the narrator.

Elena pulled back the blanket and crawled into bed. As she rolled onto her side to turn out the bedside lamp, she noticed a handful of new additions to her nightstand. Two bottles of paint - red and green sat next to a small, porcelain angel. She reached out and picked it up, noticing the unmistakable signs that it had survived a fire at some point. Turning it over carefully in her hands, she found the small crack in the wing. Smiling to herself, she looked out her window into the darkness. "Thanks, Damon."


End file.
